


Of Dragon Fire and Darkness

by Trixie_Baggins



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Tumblr Prompt, hurt!Thranduil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 14:52:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13250547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trixie_Baggins/pseuds/Trixie_Baggins
Summary: Do not speak to me of dragon fire.  I know its wrath and its ruin.





	Of Dragon Fire and Darkness

“ _ On-nin polod, nin mel, _ [give me strength, my love]” he muttered under his breath, rubbing the pendant he wore under his robe, “ _ an im baw tur- ceri- hi eriol, _ [for I cannot do this alone].”

 

He looked down on the Dwarf king that had been brought before him.  “Some may imagine that a noble quest is at hand.  A quest to reclaim a homeland and to slay a dragon.”  Dragons, cannot be slain, he said to himself.  No matter how strong the intent, nor how pure the motive.  “I, myself, sense a more prosaic motive.”  

 

Thranduil could not help thinking how much Thorin reminded him of his father.  They were both tall, for a Dwarf, and completely and utterly devoted to doing the right and honorable thing for their people.  But sometimes, they were not the same things.  Sometimes what was seemed right  was not honorable, and that which was honorable was not the right thing.  There was no honor in being a nomad, forever destined to make one’s living at the hands of others, but there was nothing right about taking one’s entire family into certain death.

 

“May you die in dragon fire!” Thorin spat back.

 

“Do not talk to me of dragon fire!” Thranduil all but yelled.  “I know its wrath and its ruin!  I have faced the great serpents of the North.”  In that instant, the glamours that he had carefully set in place disappeared, revealing scars and wounds older than the Dwarf lord standing in front of him.  “I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon, but he would not listen.”

 

The elven king stalked casually (carefully) up the flight of stairs to his throne.   _ One, two, three, four…..fifteen. _  At the top of the stairs he half-turned so his shoulder faced Thorin.  “You are just like him.”  He motioned in the general direction of Thorin for his guards to take him away.

 

_ You are just like him. _  The words he spoke to the Dwarf seemed to still echo in chamber.  Thranduil moved forward, nine paces exactly, until he reached his throne.  Thror was strong, and confident in that strength, but he was too confident, and not strong enough.  Thorin had that same confidence - he could hear it in the Dwarf’s voice.  It was the same confidence, the same haughtiness that would ultimately get him killed.  That got the Dwarves of Erebor killed the first time.

 

\--------------------------------

 

“I know you’re there.  Why do you linger in the shadows?” he said to nothing but the sound of footsteps and breaths.

 

“I was coming to report to you,” Tauriel answered arriving.  

 

It was nothing more than one of his Captains.  He conversed with her, not giving her any  more attention than was necessary.  He gave her his commands and dismissed her.  Legolas thought she was something special, but he couldn’t see what made her so great.  Captains came and went.  It did not do to treat any of them specially.

 

Even with Tauriel gone, Thranduil felt that he was not quite alone.  The wind moved just a bit oddly, and the voices of the trees sounded just a bit off.  He attributed it to the Dwarves in his dungeon - his forest reflected himself in many ways - the despicion of Dwarves among them.  

 

\-------------------------

 

The candles had already been lit for the evening everywhere else, but in his personal chambers, Thranduil sat in darkness, as he did every night.  He undressed - many other elvish lords had servants to help them dress and undress, but Thranduil saw it as an intimate act that should be shared only between two lovers.  His was gone, and so he undressed himself.

 

Each piece of clothing removed revealed more and more of an intricate web of scars across the King’s body.  Some were from arrows, others from swords.  The most faded stemmed from injuries he earned from his stupidity as a child.  The boldest, and the most pronounced, though, were the burn scars matching the ones on his face.  

 

“I miss you, my love,” he said to the darkness.  “I am alone.”

 

Thranduil sat in the darkness of the night, like he did every night.  Like he did every day.

 

_ Do not talk to me of dragon fire.  I know its wrath and its ruin. _

 

On that fateful day, Thranduil had lost so much more than just his eyesight.  He had lost the light.  No longer would he gaze upon the trees of Mirkwood in the spring - their leaves just starting to open.  He had missed the first arrow that Legolas had shot, and the sunlight finally penetrating the dense forest, bathing it in a golden light.  He sat in the darkness because even if the candles were lit, he would not be able to see them.  

 

Thranduil set the pendant he always wore safely on the table near his bed.  It was the only Gem of Lasgalen remaining in Mirkwood.  His father had won the set in battle and had sent them to Erebor be made into a necklace.  One of the gems came pre-set in a ring, and locked away as it was not needed by the dwarves.  Long ago, under penalty of death, Thranduil had stolen the ring and given it to the one he loved.  He would have done anything for her.  After Oropher’s death, she had worn it proudly.  When she passed, Thranduil refused to let them send it off with her, and instead strung it on a chain and had worn it ever since.

 

Even in the constant darkness surrounding him, he could still see her.  He could still see her smile, the ring proudly displayed on her finger, and the sparkle of her green eyes.  That was all he needed really.  The truth was, Thranduil was almost grateful that that day had taken his sight from him, because he would not have wanted to see a world that didn’t have her in it.    The darkness of the night was replaced with the darkness of sleep, and he escaped into bright dreams, with daylight, and the light of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> So a few notes:  
> 1) I picked up this idea of Thranduil being blind from [ This Tumblr Post](http://vampyrrhicvictory.tumblr.com/post/80496425355/aiffe-what-do-your-elf-eyes-see-so-basically) and really enjoyed it.  
> 2) The idea behind the history of the Gems of Lasgalen came from [Here](https://www.quora.com/Why-were-Thranduils-family-heirloom-jewels-in-Erebor)  
> 3) I don't know Sindarin, so I used [This translator](http://funtranslations.com/sindarin)
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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